Page 25 of In Darkness We Claim

With a series of rapid blinks, I try to banish the lingering sleep, my fingers finding the cool surface of my phone on the nightstand. My vision has focused by the time I look at the screen, my heart freezing for a second when I recognise the number.

I instantly accept the call, keeping quiet as I wait for the automated message to start. “This call is from a person currently in a prison in England. All calls are logged and recorded, and may be listened to by a member of prison staff. If you do not wish to accept this call, please hang up now.”

When I see that it’s only quarter past seven on a Saturday morning, I pull in a ragged breath as my mind wanders. I usually know roughly when my dad will call, and this isn’t it. The only time I received an unexpected call was from a prison staff member who informed me that my dad had been injured and hospitalised. So, naturally, I’m in worst-case scenario mode right now.

The agonising wait for the call to connect finally ends with a distinct clicking sound, then my father’s voice, and a wave of relief washes over me. “Hey, buttercup.”

“Dad, are you okay?” My voice shakes, giving away just how worried I am.

“Hey, don’t sound so sad. I thought you’d be glad to hear from your old man,” he replies, and I don’t miss the way he sidesteps my question.

“I’m always happy to hear from you, Dad. I just wasn’t expecting your call, and when I heard it was the prison calling, I started overthinking,” I admit, not able to hide anything from my dad.

A sigh escapes him, followed by the rustle of him moving about. “I have a call scheduled with my lawyer, and since I was supposed to be talking to you tonight anyway, the guard let me call early. It means I get longer with you, and it’s more private.”

“So there’s really nothing the matter? You’re not hurt or anything?” My questions rush out as quickly as they enter my brain.

“Really, everything is fine, buttercup. But enough about me, how are things with you?” he asks, and I’m once again aware that he’s rapidly changing the subject, which is a concern, but there’s not a lot I can do if he’s being evasive.

Just last night I was looking forward to talking to my dad later today, to discuss everything that has happened recently, but now he’s here, I’m not even sure where to start—which is probably why I just blurt everything out.

“Ryan asked me to be his Prize. He said it’s the only option, as I need someone to keep me safe. Obviously, I said no… I wouldn’t trust him to keep me safe, anyway. But…” I trail off, wondering how to tell him about Lawson.

“But what?” Dad prompts. “Are you considering it?”

Even though he can’t see, I shake my head and snuggle deeper into the pillows, my back settling against the headboard. “No, absolutely not.”

“So what aren’t you telling me?”

Pausing for a moment, he gives me the time to find my words. “A couple of days before Ryan asked me to be his Prize, Lawson Radley asked if I would be his.”

“Lawson Radley?” Dad repeats his name like a question, sounding as confused as I am.

He knows who Lawson is—every Obsidian Order member has heard of the Radley family, since Lawson’s father, George, is part of the Obsidian Council. They’re one of the highest-ranking families, making them like royalty in our world. So, of course, my dad has heard of him, but he doesn’t know them on a personal level.

“I didn’t know you and Lawson were that close. Why would he ask you to be his Prize?” he enquires, his tone laced with suspicion.

“We’re not close. He’s always been Ryan’s biggest rival, and they’ve never hidden how much they hate each other. Over the last two years, the only time Lawson has interacted with me is either to embarrass me or to proposition me away from Ryan. I think it has more to do with their rivalry than with me.”

A soft hum escapes Dad before he goes silent, leaving only the tap-tap-tap of his finger on the phone. “Did Ryan know Lawson asked you to be his Prize?”

“No. Nobody knew. I kept it a secret, and I assume Lawson did too after I refused him.”

He lets out a long sigh. “If that’s true, Ryan didn’t ask you in retaliation for Lawson asking you. I suspect Lawson found out Ryan was going to ask you and beat him to it.”

“Why?” The word slips out before I can stop it, but this whole situation is confusing me.

“I don’t know, but I hate to say that I agree with Ryan. You need someone to protect you.”

With another shake of my head, I tighten my grip on the duvet, its familiar weight a comfort to me. “I don’t⁠—”

Before I can finish my sentence, Dad cuts me off. “I know you’re going to say you can look after yourself, and I don’t doubt that, but there’s a lot more going on here than you’re aware of. Some very dangerous men are determined to see me fall, and they don’t plan on stopping until I’m dead.

“Luckily, I still have some friends in high places, and I have no intention of dying anytime soon. But once they realise their current plan isn’t working, they will switch things up.

“You, buttercup, are the only person in this world that I care about, and that makes you my one weakness. When they don’t get what they want from me, there’s a very good chance they’ll use you to get to me—and I can’t allow that to happen.

“Because of the situation we’re in, I can’t marry you to an Order member, despite that being the best way to keep you safe. Nobody will marry you until I’ve cleared my name, and the same goes for someone dating or getting Betrothed to you. So, unfortunately, that doesn’t leave us with many options.”